


Anthea in Horror Land

by EmeraldEyes8917



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Fallen London, Fight Scene, Gen, Screenplay/Script Format, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22098529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldEyes8917/pseuds/EmeraldEyes8917
Summary: When all of London has been exposed to a deadly virus, transforming most of the population into ravenous undead walkers, the British Government crumbles, leaving only one brave warrior standing.After working from the shadows for so long and taking refuge in the now deserted MI5 headquarters, they emerge into the harsh light of day to protect the innocent left behind.A script format scene written for the challenge on Twitter in the BBC Sherlock roleplay community a few years ago, #ZombieNation .
Kudos: 1





	Anthea in Horror Land

COLD OPEN

London, 31st October, 2016  
  
[Opening aerial shot of London at dusk,  
deserted.]  
  
Cut to:  
Shot of Westminster Abbey,  
panning slowly to the associated  
government offices.  
  
  
Cut to:  
(Shot of heavily enforced steel door,  
imposing with the words  
'Condemned' spray-painted in  
scrawling bold.  
  
Blood spatters and long scratches  
have rendered the letters almost  
illegible.  
  
In the distance, there are sounds of  
car alarms, muffled shots and  
sharp screams.)  
  
Cut to:  
(The door being slowly opened,  
as the music begins.)  
  
 _ **Soundtrack: Brand X Music - Spawn.**_  
  
There is still darkness, the one who  
opened the door still not fully visible  
apart from a gloved hand.)  
  
Cut to:  
(A large puddle beginning to ripple  
with small rain droplets falling,  
as a black boot steps in firmly.  
  
As the water settles, the reflection  
of a hooded figure is glimpsed.  
  
Slow upward pan up the body,  
clothed in black with a holster,  
belt buckles and straps,  
with some rips in the fabric of the  
long black coat.

  
The face is concealed by the hood.  
  
As the music shifts, the guitar chords  
playing out and the drums beginning the rhythm,  
the figure moves off camera instantly,  
a walking shadow.)  
  
Cut to:  
(Aerial shot from the rooftops,  
the hooded figure walking through  
the deserted streets,  
slowly and with hands at both sides.)  
  
Cut to:  
(Shot from several side-street as they walk  
past, not looking to the left or the right.  
  
The sounds of destruction can be heard  
underlying the music,  
and now there is the unmistakable  
guttural moans.)  
  
Cut to:  
(The hooded figure turning a corner onto the main road,  
to witness fire pouring from windows,  
smoke billowing and glass being  
shattered.

  
A looting gone wrong, with citizens  
desperate for supplies.

  
They all scramble to escape, clutching  
what they could scavenge,  
all covered in dirt and blood.

  
The faces of the apocalypse.)  
  
Cut to:  
(A woman screaming a warning,  
gathering her child in her arms  
and pulling the arm of her cohorts  
  
A hoarde of Walkers have arrived.)  
  
Cut to:  
(A crowd of at least ten Walkers  
advancing slowly, at least half  
look ready to sprint,  
given their level of hunger.)  
  
Cut to:  
(The citizens as they flee.

  
Some even open fire with salvaged weapons,

hitting the shoulders

or legs of the walkers, but having  
no effect whatsoever.  
  
As the piano melody from the beginning  
plays, the shots alternate of panicked  
people with the hooded figure,  
who is clearly walking towards  
the hoard, of the gloved hands,  
the boots still pacing forward,  
the glint of weapons, and the obscured  
face.  
  
A man falls to the ground with a look  
of sheer terror,  
but without missing a beat,  
the hooded figure drags them roughly  
by the scruff of his neck back to  
their feet and shoves him back behind them to the  
direction of would-be safety.  
  
The rescued man does not even look back  
or offer gratitude, the fact of being alive  
thanks enough.  
  
The street is now deserted.)  
  
Cut to:  
(Aerial shot of the street, a light smokescreen  
between the hoard and the hooded figure,  
both at a standstill now.

  
The music is at a lull, as both sides prepare  
and consider each other.)  
  
Cut to:  
(The 'leader' of this group of Walkers,  
groaning with his black maw gaping,  
his neck at an awkward angle,  
and much of his grey skin torn from  
his jaw.  
  
Another is more animated, letting out  
high-pitched noises, gnashing their teeth  
and now smelling their new prey.)  
  
Cut to:  
(The hooded figure lifting their head,  
moving their left hand inside the coat,  
flicking the edge out wide as a scabbard  
with a katana is revealed.

  
They wrap their fingers around the handle,  
waiting, waiting, waiting.  
  
As the music shifts, with the drum beats  
and the guitar riff surging,  
they flick their thumb beneath the hilt,  
pushing the katana up out of the scabbard,  
and then with a loud 'shing'  
the blade is unsheathed,  
gleaming and reflecting the flames all around.)  
  
Cut to:  
(The more rapid Walkers beginning to advance.)  
  
Cut to:  
(The figure's feet as they begin to run,  
unrelenting towards the hoard,  
blade held low to their left,  
head still bowed.)  
  
Cut to:  
(Wide shot as the two sides meet and clash  
instantly.

  
The blade pierces the abdomen of the first  
walker, and once it is drawn back,  
black blood gushes forward followed by a  
swift swipe to the neck and the walker  
crumples to the ground.  
  
As the music surges again,  
the hooded figures fights through the hoard,  
employing the katana and a loaded gun, firing at

the heads and heart centres with accuracy.

  
They turn swiftly and the hooded falls  
from their head, revealing long, dark hair  
whipped round their face, and  
a glimpse of steely blue eyes.  
  
Cut to:  
(Slow motion shot as the woman fires the last  
bullet in the chamber into a walkers's head in  
mid-fall just before it sinks its teeth into her  
neck.

  
Blood sprays all around the walkers head,  
its milky eyes bulging.  
  
As she lands on her back, it is revealed to be

ANTHEA,  
her gun smoking and face like stone.

  
She immediately rolls to a defensive stance.)  
  
Cut to:  
(The remaining walkers now advancing anew.)  
  
Cut to:  
(ANTHEA as she stands and sheaths her sword,  
begins to run, not with panic, but with resolution.)  
  
Cut to:  
(Shot of her vanishing into the smoke,  
pursued by the ravenous undead.)  
  
Cut to:  
(The black coat billowing as she runs,  
not once looking back.)  
  
  
Cut to:  
(Quick shots of the pursuit from different angles,

before ending up  
back at the enforced door.

  
She barely slams it shut before the hands reach  
inside for her.)  
  
  
Cut to:  
(Shot of ANTHEA leaning against the door  
as the music begins to quieten back down  
to the piano melody,  
slides down all the way to the floor,  
panting heavily.

She reaches slowly into her coat, sweat on her

brow, and checks her BlackBerry.

The screen is blank, with the word 'NO SIGNAL'

in the top right corner.  
  
Her head bows again until it is resting on her knees.  
  
All the while, the hoard is pounding on the door,  
even scratching at the metal, groaning loudly.  
  
Slow pan outwards from ANTHEA in front of the door  
as the final note fades out.)  
  
  
FADE TO BLACK.

**Author's Note:**

> Quite a different style for this story but was a lot of fun to visualise along with the music and the various beats. 
> 
> A few years ago, I was part of the CSI: MIami fandom, and became a huge shipper of Horatio Caine and Calleigh Duquesne.
> 
> After reading so many transcripts and becoming obsessed with the format, I began writing fictional scenarios for the couple as if they were being filmed for the actual television show.
> 
> You may be able to tell that I am not a professional scriptwriter, but I did my best.
> 
> Comments and concrit always welcome.


End file.
